


Double Trouble

by hotchoco195



Category: DCU Animated
Genre: Both of them, Competition, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gotham City - Freeform, Insanity, Love Triangles, POV Male Character, Unwise love affairs, actually more of a love pentagon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 20:58:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotchoco195/pseuds/hotchoco195
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey's got one of those unique perspectives on Gotham's villain problem - and Harley's little secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Trouble

 

As they drag me back to the cell that practically has my name on it, I wonder for the two hundredth time how this place is still running. It’s like a holiday resort for ludicrous lunatics, and not a very exclusive one at that. What is it about Gotham that makes people lose their minds in full technicolour costume?

 _You should know better than anyone_.

We know better than anyone.

_It’s the pressure. Not stress or poverty or corruption or any of that shit, the literal pressure of those dark overwhelming streets. They make a person feel small. They’re like a playground for unstable minds._

Gothamites go crazy because we let them.

 _Maybe we all secretly want to be crazy_.

There are two types of crooks in Arkham – the truly insane and the just fucked-up. The first can’t be held responsible for their actions and the second don’t really belong here. I don’t belong here, but he does.

 _You gotta stop thinking of it like that. We’re a team_.

People don’t seem to mind it, the constant unpredictability. You’re at dinner and then poof! Fear gas! Poof, giant plant people! It’s forgotten by the time the newsprint dries. I don’t know if it’s apathy or a sense of invulnerability. Maybe the villains aren’t scary enough. Maybe Batman’s too reliable.

_I love it. Break out of Arkham, no one cares. Any other city would have hauled these guards over the coals two thousand times by now, but Gotham just shrugs. Man in a giant bat suit going vigilante on a bunch of weirdos in tights? Just another day. They really let you breathe here._

Well hold your breath, cos here comes another round of timeout.

The glass slides shut and I’m technically alone again.

 _Never alone_.

No, you’re right. It’s almost like a second home.

*****

The gang and I burst into the Second National Bank, guns up.

“Alright, everybody on the floor!”

But they’re already there. A dozen frightened folks look up at me, confused, as Oswald’s birds stand over them. The fat man himself is standing on the counter collecting the cash, but he scowls when he spots us.

“What are you doing here, Harvey?”

_“Same thing as you, birdbrain – trying to pull a job.”_

“Well I saw it first.”

_“You have to admit though, you’re on my turf. Everyone knows twos are my thing.”_

He scoffs. “Oh, so now I need _your_ permission to rob a bank?”

“Maybe.”

The Bat drops down through the roof in a hail of glass, going for the flashy entrance as always. He points at Ozzy.

“It’s over, Penguin.”

Then he notices me and those dark eyes seem to scowl even more than usual.

“Two-Face. I might have known you’d be here.”

_“See, Cobblepot? Even the Bat knows this job should be mine.”_

“Oh shut it, Harvey – both of you. I promise you Batman he’s not here with me, just an unfortunate scheduling conflict.”

I nod. “I guess when there’s so many nut jobs running around pulling heists we’re bound to double book.”

Batman’s without his Boy Wonder tonight, and he wasn’t planning on odds this bad. It’s simple enough to ease out the front while he’s handling those penguin-suited dames.

_Well Harv, that went well._

Maybe Penguin’s right. Maybe we need some kind of schedule.

*****

Worse than the competition for jobs is the tiptoeing around each other. All business begets rivalry, and ours is no exception, but like I said before there’s people you don’t fuck with.

The boys and I are on our way to the Iceberg Lounge, mostly because the coin fell in favour and there’s nothing else to do tonight. The car sticks to the back ways, but the last stretch we take the main road. About four blocks from the club we stop sharp.

_“What’s the big idea, louse?” I growl._

“There’s something in the road, boss.”

I glance past the driver and notice a huge robot thing straddling the street, ripping its claws into a building and dragging out huge chunks.

_“Great. Which bozo thought this up?”_

“I dunno, b-”

“It was rhetorical, dumbass! Alright, let’s get out of range and wait it out.”

We sit parked at the side of a street a few blocks back and wait for the cops and Batman to take care of it.

_It’s sad we gotta rely on the Bat as much as anyone else._

I’m not looking to get into a fight with a giant robot tonight. This is the problem with Gotham – too many wackos trying to co-exist. As much as we all hate him, we need Batman to save us from our own chaos.

_You could take over, Harv. Reign over the lot of them, run them like a proper gang. King of Gotham Crime._

And control them? Unlikely.

_You just gotta play to their weaknesses. Give ‘em room to run within your limits._

Within twenty minutes the robot’s spare parts and the sirens of the cleanup crew are fading away.

“Still wanna hit the Lounge, boss?”

The place will be full of crooks buzzing about the latest Bat sighting and who was behind Mr Tin, Tall and Troublesome.

_Might be interesting._

Listening to them gasbag? I don’t think so. Plus if the Bat’s looking for someone to blame, he might drop by and ruin the fun.

_Then where?_

The Orchid’s more low-key than the Iceberg – less respectable too. Pammy owns it, keeps it running on the side as a nice little money maker. All that equipment costs. There’s not much of a crowd but more will trickle in before morning. The place makes us feel claustrophobic, all steamy and dark like a hothouse. The walls and ceiling look like a jungle, neon lights hanging next to vines.

The VIP room is bigger than the club itself I think, and one look at the bouncer gets me through. Quinn’s kneeling on a huge couch next to Ivy, neither of them in costume. They’re not working tonight.

“Hey Harvey!” the blonde waves excitedly.

“Good to see you again, Harv.” Ivy blows me a kiss, winking.

Normally I wouldn’t tolerate shit like that, but Pammy isn’t afraid of anyone, and she’d love to watch me lose my temper.

_I mean, if you’re willing to screw around with Joker’s girl, you can’t be scared easy._

I don’t know who’s scarier, Joker or Harls.

_Flip for it._

I sit with a couple of the boys at an empty table and this chick in a tiny green dress comes over to take our order. I get a bourbon and a martini and sit back, arms hanging over the back of the chair as I watch those two giggling and whispering on their couch. It’s like nobody else even exists in the room for them.

 _Shut up and enjoy the show_.

What do people see in Harley? She’s sad and deluded and clingy as all hell.

 _She’s fun. And she’s fucking cute_.

Don’t even think about it.

 _What? I got eyes. Or one, anyway_.

We just said no one but Ivy would risk getting caught with Blondie.

_Why should we be afraid of Joker when the Weed’s not? Huh?_

Cos I don’t wanna wake up with my hideout full of snapping teeth or piranhas or laughing gas.

Two-Face has nothing to say about that. I take another sip of my drink and watch them. Harley and Ivy both belong to that group that should never be in Arkham. They’re not crazy. Harls does a pretty good impression of it, but she’s just a girl with some weird relationship hang-ups, while Pammy couldn’t be saner – trying to kill people isn’t loony. Plenty of ordinary folk do it, and they get prison instead of the asylum.

_They’re not certified nut jobs like us._

No. There are only a handful of people who deserve Arkham as much as us.

*****

For the next week it’s like everywhere we go, there’s Quinn. With Joker, with Ivy, by herself – the little vixen is just fucking everywhere, and we can’t take the temptation.

_She’s all leaning over the table to say hi in that tight red and black, laughing her stupid giggle in our face. Is she really that gutsy, or just an idiot?_

Maybe she’s not afraid of us because no one can be worse than Joker.

_Anyhow, she’s all over us – or all over me at least. Harv’s too nice to be her type. Girl likes her fellas twisted. And it’s not being friendly, either, there’s definitely interest when she looks us over._

She was a psych. Why wouldn’t she be interested in us?

_Why would she be interested now?_

It’s probably a trap. Some joke her clown prince thought up.

 _Probably. Possibly. I’m gonna find out_.

Flip for it.

 

_It’s all over the news - Joker’s back in Arkham, the Bat wins again, rah rah. I go looking for Harley. I figure she’ll either be lying low or drowning her sorrows, and there’s only one person she can go to. The Orchid’s closed when I get there but the door opens easy enough. The place is even weirder without the lights and music, and I find my way through the dark to the VIP room._

They’re sitting together on the floor, leaning on a couch while Harley sobs. Her hood’s back, mascara and white paint streaking down her face as she hugs her knees. Pam’s stroking her hair looking almost resigned and cooing softly, and I feel bad for intruding on the moment.

_I don’t._

_“Hey dollface.”_

They both look up, Quinn wiping her tears away quickly and only making it more obvious she’s crying.

“Hey Harvey.” She mutters weakly.

“What are you doing here, Dent? We’re closed tonight.”

“I heard about your unfortunate Bat-related troubles and I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I guess. I miss my puddin’.” She croaks.

Ivy pulls her closer. “Hush now. You’re better off without him. I’m just glad that mean old Bat didn’t catch you.”

_“And think, Harls, it’s Arkham. Smart guy like Joker will be out again in no time.”_

Even if he’s better off behind those glass walls.

“You’re right, I know you’re both right, but I miss him anyway. I can’t help myself.”

“No truer word was ever spoken.” Pammy mutters.

“Huh?” Harley asks.

_“How about I get us something from behind the bar? You know, have a little pre-escape celebration?”_

“How does that sound, Harley?” Pam tries to smooth her hair a bit.

“Okay. I guess it makes sense. I shouldn’t be sad when Mister J’s probably already got a plan to get out.”

_“Alright. I’ll grab a couple things.”_

 

_An hour later Harley’s pulling on the bottle like it’s the Fountain of Youth and Pam’s lying lazily on a couch, hand brushing the floor as she hums something to her vines. I’m feelin’ it, yeah, but nothing like the teeny blonde. She’s swayin’ and gigglin’ like a kid._

“Hey, Two-face?”

_“Yeah doll?”_

“I never understood that name. You still only got one face, it’s just two halves.”

_“Well I guess Half-Face doesn’t sound as threatening.”_

“What about The Bisected Man! Jekyll and Hyde? Um...Gemini! Get it, like twins?”

_I glare at her. “How about Two-Face?”_

“Okay!” she chirps happily.

_She sorta flops her head to the side like she’s thinking, her eyes all bright with the booze and the crying. Ivy found a cloth to clean her face and she looks a lot more normal. Harley puts down the vodka and shuffles closer to me._

“Harvey...”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like me?”

“I guess. You can be real sweet.”

“Do ya think I’m pretty?”

“Well sure.”

“I love Mister J, but he never says stuff like that.” She looks down sadly, hands trailing over the velvety couch.

“Isn’t that what Ivy’s for?”

“She’s great at it. Always sayin’ I’m better than I think I am. But a girl worries sometimes, you know?”

“I know.”

“You’re bein’ so nice to me. And you’re never nice to anyone!”

We’re not sure what to say, so we say nothing. Harley bites her lip thoughtfully for a minute, then gets up onto her knees and leans over, kissing us gently.

_Oh yeah. Here we go._

No. This is wrong.

“Wait, wait,” I grab her wrists as her hands move to my face, “What about Ivy?”

The redhead rolls her neck to regard us. “Go ahead. She doesn’t belong to me.”

“Red’s always telling me to do my own thing.” Harley’s all perkiness as she beams at me.

“And Joker?”

She purses her lips, walking her fingers over our chest. “Puddin’ doesn’t need to know.”

_What are you waiting for?_

I don’t know.

_I seize the back of her neck and pull her to me, tasting those cherry-red lips. Her fingers paw at us, shimmying in her suit as she wriggles into our lap. Harvey’s pretty quiet now._

_“I like the costume. Very symmetrical. Take it off.”_

_She looks at me like I’m the greatest thing in the world. No wonder the most heartless people lose their minds over this dame. She makes a person feel..._

Useful. Like a hero. Like the good guy.

_Maybe none of us really enjoy being crazy._

*****

_So that’s how it is. Harls bounces between us, taking what she needs from each. Joker is her obsession, the guy who’ll never appreciate her but first got in her head. She’ll always go back to him. Ivy’s for when she needs to be reminded she’s strong and smart and worthwhile. She can be tender when she wants._

And us?

_We’re special. We’re the extreme personality that attracts her. We’re the Joker’s coldness and Pam’s soft side in one. We’re not lookin’ for her to be anything but what she is._

We never ask her to be ours. We’re better at sharing.

_I’ll say._


End file.
